Sam Winchester Takes a Stand
by quietandsneaky
Summary: Tag to episode: Scarecrow. The way I wish the argument between Sam and Dean had gone. Rated T for mention of past suicidal thoughts. NOT a suicide or death fic.


**Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me.**

 **A/N: So, I've been in quite the angsty mood lately. I was rewatching the Scarecrow episode, and this just kind of flowed from that. It's the way I wish this argument had gone.**

 **I am still working on Fridays in May. I just don't feel in the mood today to solve things, so I took a 24 hour break from it. I'm planning on the next chapter being up Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on how schoolwork goes. I'm hoping no later than Friday.**

 **I feel like I should clarify my position on John Winchester. I don't necessarily hate him. I think he was an amazing hunter of all things evil and he did a good job training his kids to do the same. I also believe he loved his boys, especially Dean.** **But love isn't enough** **. I strongly identify with Sam. I had a hypercritical parent, a stepdad that was on my case every minute for the two years that he and my mom were married. Nothing I ever did was good enough, and the damage from that is still evident today, almost a decade after he died. So, yes, while I do participate in John Winchester bashing on a regular basis, I do it as a healthy way to deal with my own feelings. I never really got the chance to stand up to my stepdad, and I wish that I had. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, enjoy!**

Dean had been telling him the details of the case, but Sam's mind was miles away. It was in his apartment at Stanford, long since gone in flames that haunted Sam's dreams every time he dared close his eyes. More than anything, Sam wanted to be back there, holding Jess and back in the safety and comfort of the life he had fought so hard to carve out for himself. Shaking back those thoughts, Sam forced himself back into the conversation.

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam asked.

"Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master." Dean answered.

Annoyance bristled through Sam. He pulled the car over quickly, making Dean look up from his work organizing the hunt.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

Sam made up his mind and turned to Dean with determination. "We're not going to Indiana."

"We're not?" Dean asked, confused.

"No. We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code."

"Sam." Dean said, and Sam could hear the twinge of annoyance he was attempting to hide.

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help." Sam argued, trying not to become annoyed himself. If he had any hope of Dean helping him find out what happened to Jess, he had to stay calm.

"Dad doesn't want our help."

"I don't care." Sam said.

"He's given us an order."

"I don't care." Sam said firmly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it's important." Dean pointed out.

 _Stay cool,_ Sam reminded himself. "Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."

Dean could see Sam was not trying to fight; he was struggling, and needed to know what was going on. "Alright, look, I know how you feel."

"Do you?" Sam asked, dropping the patience and deciding to fight his position again.

Dean's eyes grew wide at Sam's tone. He thought that Sam was getting better, was reacclimating himself to the hunting life. He'd hoped that at least part of the reason he'd stuck around was to help find John. That maybe he was actually interested in healing the rift between them. But was he only here to find Jess's killer, with no regard to what happened with their father?

"How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?" Sam asked.

"Dad said it wasn't safe. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away." Dean argued.

"I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man." Sam said, exasperated. "I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!"

Any ounce of patience Sam drained out of him. He yanked open the driver's side door and walked to the trunk of the car to grab his duffle bag. _Forget this_ , he thought. _Jess, I'll find out what happened to you. If it kills me, I'll take care of it._ Dean shook him out of his thoughts.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."

Sam tried not to let it bother him, but the old familiar barbs of _Sam, you're selfish for wanting what you want_ and _Sam, just be good and listen to me no matter what it costs you_ still stung as much as it had before. "That's what you really think?"

Dean had regretted it the instant the accusation left his mouth. But he had to get Sam to listen. He had to keep him safe.

"Yes, it is."

Sam laughed humorlessly, and Dean was a little scared. He could see Sam was beginning to come unglued. Before he could say anything, Sam continued, with a quiet fury and hurt that took Dean by surprise.

"You're right, Dean. I'm so selfish that instead of telling you to get lost and tying a bow on the life I could have had, I left the girl I loved to help you find a man that could never put two good words together about me."

Dean didn't know what to say.

"I left her to help you find a man who used to make me sit in bed crying when I was _six_ wondering if it should have been me instead of mom that died in that fire, because maybe then I could have had half a chance of making him happy."

"Sammy…" Dean said breathlessly.

"And after she _died,_ and he _still_ couldn't be bothered to so much as call me, I kept helping you look for him."

"He just called you…"

"Six months later!" Sam shouted. "And we're not talking about Dad right this second. Because let me tell you something else, Dean. I had another chance."

"Another chance for what?" Dean asked.

"My friends, you know, the ones who were there for me when Jess and I were together, talked to the Stanford Law interview committee. They explained to them that Jess had died the day before my interview, and they agreed to give me another chance next semester. I turned it down to stay with you."

"Hold on a damn minute." Dean said, his own anger starting to resurface now. "Dad may not have always been there for you, but I always was."

"Except where it mattered the most."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"From the time I was twelve years old, what did you say every time I got in a fight with Dad?"

"Sammy…"

"What did you say?" Sam asked.

"I said I didn't want to be in the middle."

"Right. Even when Dad would knock the paint off the walls screaming at me, you would keep saying you didn't want to be in the middle." Sam said.

"You were screaming right back at him, Samm…Sam." Dean said, trying to keep Sam as calm as possible in the moment. "You were throwing back at him just as hard as he was at you…"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I did. So, tell me what I was supposed to do. Let Dad run over me? Should I have done that?"

"No, but maybe if you would've listened to him a little more…"

"I did. I listened to him. Every single time he told me how slow I was, how selfish I was, how I never measured up. I listened, and I took it in, and I had _that_ running through my head every time it was over. And God forbid I go to _you_ to ask if it was true, or to look for a little reassurance, because you didn't want to be in the middle of it."

Dean was really starting to wish he had kept his mouth shut in the car.

"And what you said on the bug case about the door between me and Dad swinging both ways? No, Dean. Dad told me not to come back. The door can't swing both ways when it's slammed in your face." Sam said. "And the reason I didn't keep in touch with you was because of your precious neutral stance. You said you didn't want anything to do with it, so I kept you out."

"Sam, did you really think I didn't want to see you?"

"Look me in the eye and tell me that if I had called you and asked you to come to lunch or something and not bring Dad, that you would've done it."

Dean shook his head, wanting to lie and say yes but he knew Sam would see right through it.

Softening slightly, Sam continued, "Look, I never blamed you for not wanting to jump in when Dad and I were fighting. I didn't like it, but I understand it now. But you could have told me I was worth something when Dad made me feel like I wasn't. Which was the majority of the reason I left. And I'll tell you something else, Dean. If I hadn't left for Stanford that night, I had a backup plan. Because I didn't know if I'd have the strength to walk out the door with you begging me to stay."

"A backup plan? What backup plan?" Dean asked.

Sam was the regretful one now. He'd sworn to never reveal this to Dean, but it was too late to take it back now. "Let's just say I decided that if I didn't leave for Stanford, I would have tested that theory about whether me being gone would have made Dad happy or not."

"What does that mean…" Dean asked, before realization hit him faster than a bullet fired from a gun. "You would have done that?"

"Yeah. I would've. But I didn't, because the thought of leaving you permanently and what it would have done to you stopped me." Sam said. He reached down and picked up the duffel bag that he'd thrown to the ground. "So tell me Dean, what do you think about your selfish bastard of a brother now?"

Dean's mind was reeling. He wanted to keep fighting, tell Sam that he was still selfish, but it wasn't true. Dean had always wondered what would have happened if Sam had stayed with them and not gone to Stanford. With Sam's revelation about his plan if he hadn't left, Dean was also haunted by memories of a teenage Sam, miserable and lonely and wanting someone, anyone to lift him up and encourage him after yet another screaming match with their father. Make him feel worthwhile and valuable. Like Sam had done for him countless times before, when he'd gotten a bad grade in school or not done so well on a hunt. Like he should have been doing for Sam the whole time. Sam was walking at a steady pace towards the road, but Dean called out.

"Sam, wait."

Sam stopped but didn't turn around.

"Please. Come back, at least for a second."

Sam turned and walked back towards Dean.

Dean sighed. "Look, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You're right. Dad was a bastard to you more often than not, and I should've stood up for you more. I'm sorry I called you selfish. You're not." Dean said. "I'm just afraid for you to leave again."

"Afraid of what?" Sam said.

"I don't want it to be another four years."

"Dean, what do I have to do to get through to you? Me being in another place doesn't mean that we stop being family. I didn't draw that line. Dad did. It just means I'm doing my own thing for a while. Dude, you mean the world to me. I'd do anything for you."

"Even stay behind?" Dean asked hopefully.

Sam frowned. "Anything but that, Dean. Look, Dean, I know you gave up a lot raising me for Dad. I get that. But I won't do this forever. I am going back to school when all this is over. You can call me anytime you want, you can come visit, you can even move in with me if that's possible. If it isn't I'll help you find an apartment nearby. I do love you, I would do anything for you, but I won't give up my life again."

Dean nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Look, man, I left with you to look for Dad when you asked. I would love it if you returned the favor, but I won't be upset if you don't. I mean that. Just let me go, and I swear to you I'll come back."

Dean thought for a long moment. "Two conditions." he finally said.

"Name 'em."

"One, call me while you're looking for Dad. Keep me updated." Dean said.

"Done."

"Two, and please just hear me out on this one. I hear you about wanting to go back to school. If that's what you want, I'm all for it. Just give me a month."

"A month for what?" Sam asked.

"A month with you, me, and Dad under the same roof." When Sam started to object, Dean continued. "I swear, Sam, I'm not asking you to stay permanently. I'm just asking that when this is over, give me a few weeks with my dream too."

"I'd do it for you. But if Dad…"

"If you promise me you'll stick around at least a month, I won't let Dad fight with you. I swear. Please, Sam. One month, that's all I want."

Sam nodded. For Dean, he would do it. "Deal. One month."

"Okay." Dean noticed a car coming up the road, and remembered they had a long trip ahead of them. "Look, you're right. I do have to do this hunt. But just travel with me until we get to a town with a bus station."

"Alright. Until we get to a bus station." Sam said.

"And Sam? I love you too, bitch."

Sam actually laughed at that. "No chick flick moments, jerk. Let's go."


End file.
